The Way of the Cross // Dust No. 10

Here’s part two of our interview with UC Irvine psychiatrist Aaron Kheriaty.

The Table: What do you read during Lent?

Kheriaty: I read a chapter from the New Testament every day, so during Lent I try to focus more on the chapters in the Gospels that depict Christ’s Passion. Many spiritual writers have written brief meditations on the Stations of the Cross—my favorites are those from Pope Benedict XVI, Caryll Houselander, and St. Josemaria Escriva. Alban Goodier’s book, The Passion and Death of Our Lord Jesus Christ, is excellent, and Luis de la Palma’s The Sacred Passion is a classic. Josemaria Escriva’s collection of homilies, Christ is Passing By, has several excellent chapters on Lent and Holy Week. Finally, I would recommend the second volume of Pope Benedict’s Jesus of Nazareth: Holy Week: From the Entrance Into Jerusalem to the Resurrection.

The Table: As a Catholic, are there traditions or liturgies or practices that are especially significant to you?

Kheriaty: Roman Catholics have a beautiful Lenten tradition, in addition to the usual Liturgical traditions, which is a private devotion called “The Stations of the Cross,” or sometimes called, “The Way of the Cross.” This consists of 14 Stations depicting Our Lord’s Passion and death, from the sentence he receives from Pilate, through the long trek up Calvary carrying his cross, to his final breath. The Stations, which are typically recalled on Fridays during Lent, conclude with Jesus being laid in the tomb. Making the “way of the cross” using this devotional practice helps us enter into the scene of his passion, and increases our hope and anticipation for his Resurrection. Catholics traditionally do this devotion on Fridays during Lent, and particularly on Good Friday, though it can be done at other times of year as well. I remember as a young child my mother taking me to our parish Church, when no one was there, and doing the Stations with just us kids. The parish, like most Catholic churches, had the stations depicted on the side walls, and we would walk slowly around the quiet and dark church, reading from a book of meditations, gazing at the scenes depicted on the friezes, and praying together. This left a vivid impression of Christ’s passion on my imagination and helped me to really enter into those scenes from the Gospels. It’s noteworthy that many details in the film, The Passion of the Christ, were based on elements from the Stations of the Cross—for example, the traditional idea that Christ fell three times while carrying the cross up to Calvary.

The Table: What are you giving up (or taking on) for Lent? How do you practice penitence this season?

Kheriaty: This year I’ve decided to take on “electronic fasting”, which will may actually be more challenging than conventional fasting! I have in mind setting limits on when I check my email and use my iPhone. These things can become such an distraction—even an obsession—so this year I’m going to try to unplug a bit and be more present to God or others wherever I find myself, rather than getting my smartphone out to check websites or send a text or whatever when I have a few minutes of downtime.

The Table: What do you find historically, philosophically, ecclesiologically, or theologically fascinating about Lent?

Kheriaty: Too many things to mention, and it would take many theological treatises! You can start with the Cross—an instrument of torture that has become the sign of our salvation, our hope. I also find Ash Wednesday intriguing as a Catholic, because for us it’s not actually a holy day of obligation (where all Catholics are expected to go to Mass), but so many people show up on that day—the churches are packed on Ash Wednesday! People seem to want to be marked with this sign on their forehead, strange as it sounds. It’s like they show up to the office that morning and see the guy in the cubicle wearing his ashes, and they think, “Oh yeah, it’s Ash Wednesday today, I should catch the 5:30 service at St. Edward’s after work and get my ashes.” So off they go, perhaps not having gone to church in months, and they arrive to the liturgy and halfway through the service someone smears black ashes on their forehead with strange words to remind them of their mortality and frailty, and their need for redemption: “Remember, man, that thou art dust, and to dust thou shall return…” Marvelous.